


bits and pieces

by graywhatsit



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Drabble Collection, Gen, Hat Films, Multi, pantsferdinand's au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4156986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graywhatsit/pseuds/graywhatsit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just the fics i thought weren't good enough to be on their own</p><p>all hfhpau related</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. musicality

**Author's Note:**

> what if smith wasn't the potions master we all thought he was?

Sure, he’d always liked music, but he’d never really _played_ much of it.

    His parents didn’t exactly put much stock into music, finding it a rather silly waste of time, time that could be better used refining his- seemingly- non-existent talents, whipping him into proper shape as a Smith should be, greatest of his kind.

    It didn’t stop him from tapping out rhythms when he should be practicing wand technique, or humming quietly as he measured potions ingredients, matching his chopping up of spleens and kidneys to that unheard beat in his head. It just seemed to be part of him.

    And, during one visit to Trott’s home, he watched, a little mystified, as he pulled out the hollow stringed instrument, settling it in the curve of his body as he plucked and tightened the strings in front.

    “You think you can teach me to play?” He blurted suddenly, right in the middle of a warm up, and Trott simply shrugged, grinning at him.

    “Yeah, sure. Get over here.”

    He’d never been allowed to play, kept away from even the smallest of instruments, and it showed- though he’d been tapping and humming and even singing for years, he had no training, and he was more than a bit clumsy in moving his fingers the right way.

    Still, he worked that entire summer, until his fingers were raw, cracked and bleeding, drilling chords and riffs and notes into his head, and more than once, he’d practice in his sleep, recalled with a laugh by the two of his friends.

    Through all that work, the sheer dedication he gave the task, he improved readily, an innate sense for it speeding up the learning process, and by the summer of their sixth year, when the lot of them were worrying and stressed by the mere thought of their upcoming seventh, with N.E.W.T.s and their absolute final year of school, he was fairly good, if he did say so, himself.

    So, when he tossed aside his study materials and picked up the guitar, beginning to strum and sing, stress just melting away from the first note, they simply chalked it up to the distraction of the music.

    Though with the warmth tingling through his fingers and in his throat, pouring what he had into the song, Smith couldn’t help but wonder:

    Maybe wands really weren’t necessary for magic.


	2. thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future is a frightening prospect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the only hatsome in this set tbh

  “What are we going to do?”

    The question, in Trott’s deep voice, broke through the dark silence of their little hideaway in the Room of Requirement, however soft it might have been. There was a pause, then the sound of someone shuffling around in the big, soft bed they found there every full moon.

    “What d’you mean?”

    If the Ravenclaw turned his head- which he did, at the returning question- he could just make out Smith’s face on the pillow next to him, mere inches away. Sure, it may have all been dark shades of bluish-black, even with the pale light somehow filtering inside of the large hall though there were no windows, but he knew that face even better than he knew his own.

    Even if it had grown a little more square-jawed and a tiny bit fuzzy over the past year or so.

    “We’re graduating here, Smith. We won’t be coming back to Hogwarts after tomorrow. Ever.”

    “And?” Funny how you can _hear_ someone’s face in their voice, sometimes- there was no mistaking that eyebrow raise. “Are you really that much of a nerd you want to stay in school even longer?”

    Trott huffed, pushing at his shoulder. “That’s not what I meant, asshole.” He could feel the other shape in the bed give a low grumble, a wolf version of a laugh, and he kicked at Ross lightly with his foot, still under the covers.

    It just got the werewolf to place his massive head over Trott’s belly, watching the pair of them with great amusement in those slightly glowing blue eyes. He could just hear it- _then, what did you mean_?

    “I _meant_ ,” he started, glaring down at his friend, “we won’t be coming back. We won’t _see_ each other after this, and I don’t-” Trott stopped, sudden sadness clenching his throat like a clawed hand, stopping his voice in its tracks.

    Smith replied, oddly gentle. “You don’t…?”

    This wasn’t something he’d admit. It was something none of them would. It had been hanging in the air for years, growing thicker by the day, and recently, it seemed as though you could cut it with a knife. The elephant in the room was growing more and more impatient and larger by the second- no one could continue to ignore this.

    He had to.

    “I don’t.. want to lose you guys,” he said finally, quietly. “I don’t want this to be it, and then we just.. grow apart. I want to stay with you.”

    Ross whined softly and nudged at his hand, managing to get his head under so Trott could scratch through the thick, soft fur between his pointed ears. _So do we_.

    “Well, who says we can’t?” His old stubbornness crept into his voice, and the image of Smith’s face, determined and strong as ever, came into his mind. “Nothing’s going to tear us apart, you twat. You can’t get rid of us, no matter what, so why even bring it up?”

    “Because it might?” Trott sighed, then lowered his voice once again. “Things happen, we all know that. We’re growing up, we’re _adults_. We need to get jobs and go out into the real world, and I know it seems like I have everything figured out, but I _don’t_. I’m scared of it, I know you guys are, too, and I don’t want to do it alone. I don’t want the world to do that to us. _Tomorrow_ is the end, and I can’t figure everything out in a day, and I don’t want to-”

    A certain way to shut him up, he realized in that moment, was to kiss him. Not that it was entirely unexpected- really, it had been a long time coming- but.. it was definitely better than he’d imagined it might be.

    “We’re gonna be just fine,” Smith said when he finally moved back. “Seriously. We don’t have to have every answer right now. We’ll all be together and we’ll all make it work for us. Don’t worry about it, Trott.”

    “But-”

    A lick kiss in the face from a wolf wasn’t nearly so nice as a proper kiss, but it worked well enough to get him to stop talking. _Shut_ up, _Trott_.

    “See? We’ll be fine. Now- go to _sleep_.” The Slytherin pulled Trott a little closer, and Ross shuffled to keep up with them, settling across both of their bodies, almost a massive black blanket. “Wait a second- _Ross_ …”

    With a second low grumble, Ross scooted up to give Smith a lick kiss, too. He couldn’t leave him out of the love, now, could he?

    “Thanks,” he replied, dryly, before flopping back on his pillow. Ross wasn’t about to move any time soon, even if he had explained what he really wanted. Stupid werewolf.

    With a few good nights, they did manage to find sleep, all curled up together. They’d figure things out, but for now, they were going to sleep in as much as possible.


End file.
